


To Sweetly Chide

by HashtagTheyFucked



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Crying, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Light Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Sibling Incest, Sister-Sister Relationship, Spanking, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, zelda is a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 13:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashtagTheyFucked/pseuds/HashtagTheyFucked
Summary: It’s a little awkward, maneuvering someone taller to lay over her lap, but Hilda manages with a bit of shuffling, adjusting, and a very firm grip on Zelda’s thigh. Zelda, for her part, doesn’t make it any easier. She squirms and pinches and if she were in a more accommodating position, she would surely bite.“Oh, Zelds,” Hilda says in her most patronizing tone, kneading the pale flesh in front of her, “I don’t know why you always make this so difficult for yourself.”Or,Zelda earns herself a spanking.





	To Sweetly Chide

Hilda settles herself as comfortably as she can on the trunk at the foot of her bed. She would prefer to do this on the bed itself, but it’s too high for Hilda’s feet to touch the floor and Zelda won’t hear of changing anything in their room. It had taken nearly 50 years for her to allow in electric lights, even though the house had been fully wired for it in the recent twenties. 

Zelda has always been a complicated, convoluted mess of contradictions. 

She wants this from Hilda, begs for it even, but adamantly refuses to change anything she views as hers (e.g. their bedroom), even if it would allow this (and other things like this that they do) to happen more often and more easily. It’s dangerous, difficult, and just plain uncomfortable if Hilda can’t plant her feet properly on the floor. 

She finds it hard to remember her complaints, though, when Zelda is standing in front of her, slowly removing her dress the way she is. 

“Y’know you could just ask me to spank you instead of acting like a complete bitch all day.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to be rude. Where’s the fun in that, Hildie?”   
  
Hilda sighs, but she’s smiling. She gestures to the stockings Zelda is still wearing, “Those too.”

Zelda pouts, but steps out of her heels in order to comply, before propping her foot up on the edge of the trunk next to Hilda’s thigh and slowly rolling each one down. The proximity of Zelda’s newly bare legs makes her blush, but she doesn't let herself get distracted. If they're both patient, they both will get what they want.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s a little awkward, maneuvering someone taller to lay over her lap, but Hilda manages with a bit of shuffling, adjusting, and a very firm grip on Zelda’s thigh.    
  
Zelda, for her part, doesn’t make it any easier. She squirms and pinches and if she were in a more accommodating position, she would surely bite. Zelda has never been able to get something she wants without a scar or a bruise to show for it— though these battle wounds don’t necessarily show up her own body.

She manages to situate Zelda on her lap, holding her in place with a strong hand on the smooth skin of her hip. Zelda still wiggles a bit, but now that Hilda has a proper hold on her, she isn’t going anywhere. 

  
Hilda jerks Zelda’s black underwear down to rest in the slight divvet where thighs become buttocks and she is immensely gratified by the gasp that escapes Zelda’s lips. Zelda stills momentarily as Hilda strokes the curve of her ass, admiring the contrast of the dark material against Zelda’s ivory skin.

“Oh, Zelds,” Hilda says in her most patronizing tone, kneading the pale flesh, “I don’t know why you always make this so difficult for yourself.” 

She exaggerates her disappointed sigh and Zelda squirms on her lap some more, but doesn’t answer Hilda with anything other than her slightly labored breathing. 

Hilda tsks a few times, shaking her head. 

She calmly squeezes one ass cheek before rubbing lazy, languid circles that run from crack to hip. Zelda’s breath catches when Hilda’s fingers brush just a hairsbreadth between her cheeks, and she grabs onto Hilda’s ankle. She knows Hilda’s technique. Getting the blood flowing is the prelude to the spanking proper. Zelda is already wet. 

“You know what’s coming, Zelda,” Hilda says without stopping her hand. “Tell me.”

A quietly strained “Hnngh,” is Zelda’s first response as she flexes particularly hard in her wiggling. 

Hilda pauses the movement of her hand, resting it lightly on the fullest part of the swell of Zelda’s buttock. 

Zelda’s glutes tense and she briefly squeezes Hilda’s ankle. Hilda waits patiently, perfectly still. After a moment, Zelda releases the tension in her muscles and lets her head fall forward. 

“You’re going to spank me,” she mutters. 

Hilda rubs a single circle over one cheek as a reward for saying anything at all. But…

“That was a bit too quiet, love. Tell me what’s about to happen, and tell me so I can hear you this time, please.”

Zelda digs her nails into Hilda’s ankle in irritation and grits out, “You’re about to spank me, Hildegard.”

The frustration in Zelda’s voice makes Hilda smile and she starts up with the circles again. 

“Good,” Hilda moves her hand over to massage Zelda’s other cheek, “and why, my darling, are you being punished today?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Zelda says in her loftiest tone. In spite of herself, Hilda is actually impressed that her sister can manage to sound so disdainful with her knickers down and while waiting to be spanked.

“Oh, so I’ll just let you up then, and you can put your clothes back on, yeah?” 

Zelda lets out a petulant whine and kicks out one foot half-heartedly. 

“Oh, alright,” Zelda says before letting out a melodramatic sigh that she would vehemently deny was learned from their niece. “I suppose I haven’t been on my best behavior today.” 

“That’s putting it mildly, love. You have been an absolute nightmare— you even drove the children out of the house!”

“Perhaps that was the point, Hilda,” is Zelda’s dry response. 

“Well you didn’t have to be so nasty about it. Next time we want some alone time, leave them to me and maybe, if I’m feeling generous, you’ll still get a spanking.”

Zelda swallows audibly. 

“Would you like that, love?”

Zelda’s breathing picks up again. She swallows, but says nothing. 

Hilda gives Zelda two light, little warning taps with her fingertips on her tailbone. 

“You know I would,” she hears through Zelda’s gritted teeth.

Hilda chuckles and bends over to give Zelda’s shoulder a quick, light kiss. Zelda squirms again.

“You’re right, I do know that, don’t I?” Hilda muses. 

Zelda pinches her calf at Hilda’s facetious tone. Hilda only grins and picks up her kneading and massaging again.

Zelda’s ass is warm now, and Hilda takes her hand away to admire its smooth roundness. Her sister really does have a fantastic ass. 

Zelda shivers, just slightly, in her lap. Hilda places her hand lightly on her upper thigh and Zelda jumps a bit at the contact. 

“Are you ready, my naughty girl?”

Zelda tries to cover a whimper by clearing her throat.

“Yes.” 

A split second after the confirmation is out in the air, Hilda’s hand hits one cheek with a loud  _ clap _ . 

Zelda wasn’t expecting it so quickly nor so strongly and she grunts as the air is forced out of her lungs. 

Hilda’s first smack held nothing back and, in its wake, a blushing handprint blooms on the pale skin. She takes a moment to admire the visual while Zelda breathes through the stinging pain, holding Hilda’s ankle in a vice grip.

Hilda’s next hits aren’t quite as hard as the first, but they all land squarely on top of the pretty pink handprint, bringing more color to the surface. Zelda gets a few more at a steady pace before Hilda pauses. Zelda is panting and a bit tense, waiting for the next hit. 

Hilda rubs her hand over the mark on Zelda’s ass and checks in. There’ll be a dappled bruise there come morning and Hilda is already looking forward to watching Zelda wince as she sits down to breakfast.

“Alright, love?”

Zelda nods vigorously, still panting. 

“Good. You’re doing very well, my sweet.”

Hilda switches her hits to the other side, focusing on Zelda’s responses. She adds in a harder slap and Zelda’s legs kick briefly as she grunts from the force. Hilda doesn’t give her time to recover, continuing at the same steady pace, and Zelda’s panting slowly evens out as her body gets used to the measured hits Hilda is doling out. Now both of Zelda’s cheeks are a lovely, blushing incarnadine. Hilda’s next slap lands back on the first cheek, making Zelda squeak in surprise, and the one after that returns to the other cheek. She pauses, smiling at the way Zelda almost flinches when the next hit doesn’t come on the steady pattern Hilda had established. 

“Still alright?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ve no idea how pretty you look on my lap right now,”

“Hilda…”

But before Zelda can gather herself to say anything more, Hilda lands another slap on the first cheek and Zelda cuts herself off with a gasp. She alternates sides, adding more force as she goes until Zelda begins to squeal and let out indistinct little, “Ah!” sounds with each slap. 

After a few minutes at that intensity, Hilda lets up and rubs Zelda’s overly flushed skin. 

Zelda moans. 

“Is this turning you on?”

“No,” is Zelda’s breathlessly defiant answer and Hilda lands a hard slap low and right in the middle of Zelda’s ass, dangerously close to her pussy.

Zelda jumps, though it’s more from surprise than pain.

Hilda goes back to her soothing rubbing. 

“I happen to know that it is, Zelds,” Hilda coos. “Everything I do to you turns you on, doesn’t it, sister?”

Zelda’s thighs are quivering. 

“Yes, Hildie,” Zelda’s voice cracks on the confession. 

Hilda hums her response as she squeezes and strokes the warm soft skin. She lets her pinky slide under the bunched up material of Zelda’s knickers to brush against Zelda’s sex. Zelda gasps and Hilda smirks. She's dripping. 

“Check in. How are you doing, love?”

“Yes,” Zelda says, nodding, “I mean, good, Hilda, I’m good.”

“You’re doing so well, Zelds. ”

Hilda shakes out her own hand a bit, adjusts Zelda on her lap. She gives Zelda’s endorphins a chance to catch up, stroking the blotchy red outlines of the marks on her sister’s ass. 

Hilda can feel Zelda’s stomach muscles jumping and twitching against her thighs as she fails to hold herself still. She’s not trying to escape anymore the way she had been when Hilda had first dragged her over her lap. Instead, she’s squirming and subtly wiggling her butt in an awkward, shaky way that has her hips trying to grind against Hilda’s thigh, but failing to make any satisfying contact. Hilda gives her a stronger whack any time Hilda judges her squirming to be getting too pleasurable.

Hilda loves seeing Zelda like this— needy and desperate and only barely keeping control of her own body. She’s breathing hard. Hilda opens herself up to Zelda’s feelings, trying to gauge how much more she can take and is immediately hit with a stifling wall of needy, humid, lust. 

Alrighty, then. 

She lays into Zelda once more. 

Hilda aims her hits lower, closer to Zelda’s thighs, where the flesh is more sensitive. She continues the simple pattern of alternating sides, but keeps her blows closer the middle. The next round of hits is steady and even and unrelenting; Hilda spanks Zelda hard and Zelda cries out loudly at each one, reflexively kicking her legs. She finishes off the round with a handful of quick, hard, slaps that land squarely over Zelda’s exposed sex.

When Hilda finally stops, Zelda whimpers and tries to reach back with her hand to touch her sore bottom. Hilda grabs her arm and holds it firmly against her side. 

“What do you say?”

“Oh,” Zelda manages. It takes her a second to make her mouth form actual words. She sniffles before saying shakily, “I’m sorry, I just…” She trails off, unsure of what response would please her younger sister.

Hilda caresses her bottom before Zelda has a chance to finish her thought and she instinctively flinches at the unexpectedly gentle contact. Hilda leans down, presses a long, soft kiss to Zelda’s shoulder blade and rests her forehead against her sister’s quivering back for a moment. Zelda smells of her usual perfume and shampoo and lotion, but she also smells like sweat and arousal, and then, under all that, she smells faintly of guilt and shame and adrenaline. 

Hilda breathes in Zelda’s heady scent and breathes out her name against warm skin. Zelda shivers and a quiet moan escapes. She drags her knuckles over her sister’s backside, up towards the base of her knobby spine, and back again and tsks disapprovingly as she rocks her forehead against Zelda’s back in an approximation of shaking her head. She can feel Zelda’s regret mixed with her masochistic anticipation seeping out of her pores into the air Hilda inhales. Hilda looks at the view down Zelda’s back as she considers her options. 

Another bout of spankings would certainly be well deserved, but Hilda doesn’t want to push Zelda’s adrenaline levels to a point where the endorphins would be eclipsed. She absentmindedly rubs Zelda’s sore backside as she deliberates in her head.

The dappled discoloration of Zelda’s ass looks so inviting from this angle. She lays her palm over a slightly raised hand-shaped welt and squeezes experimentally. Zelda groans and Hilda feels the rumbling vibration in Zelda’s ribcage as she nuzzles her face against Zelda’s skin. She does it again, squeezing a different spot and gets the same response.

She feels Zelda questioningly nudge at her consciousness, but Hilda throws up a solid psychic wall that Zelda’s mental inquiry bounces off of. Hilda comes to a decision and kisses Zelda’s back again, right where her forehead had rested and straightens up. 

“We  _ were  _ almost done, love, but you know you’re not allowed to touch until I say so.”

Zelda nods, trying to regulate her breathing— sucking air in through her teeth and then blowing it out, as if she were blowing out candles on a cake— but Hilda hears a faint watery trembling in every breath that tells her Zelda is crying. 

She makes the last round quick and hard, landing a few consecutive hits on each cheek. She gives Zelda no time to recover between them and her strangled moan at the first slap blends into a higher-pitched keening until she is crying out with each unyielding hit. Her body begins to twitch and jump exaggeratedly as Hilda gets in the last few smacks and when Hilda ultimately stops, Zelda’s last loud cry dissolves into a sob. Hilda strokes her back gently for a few minutes until Zelda begins to get her breathing back under control. 

“There now, beautiful, it’s all over,” Hilda sooths, trying to make her voice as gentle as her fingertips on Zelda’s over-sensitized skin. “Just relax now. You did so well, Zelds, I’m so proud of you.”

Zelda is too spent to speak, but Hilda feels a faint wave of embarrassed pleasure and gratitude lapping at her psyche.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Zelda is limp as Hilda helps her to stand up. Her face is flushed, and her eyes are glassy, but she looks calm, even blissful, as she slowly blinks her wet lashes and watches Hilda. 

She makes a very pretty sight as she stands there. Her hair is tousled, her porcelain skin is rosy with a blush. Her slow, deep breaths make her chest rise and fall under the delicate lace of her bra. The smooth pale skin that is the soft expanse of her stomach and hips is distracting, but not as distracting as the sight of her uncovered mound, the damp, reddish curls drawing Hilda’s eye. She sees a trickle of moisture roll down Zelda’s inner thigh before being caught by the bunched fabric of her underwear. 

This Zelda is one of Hilda’s favorites: pliant and sated and so, so ready to be fucked. 

Hilda stands up as well, stretches, shakes out her hand once more, and then opens her arms for Zelda to fall into a hug. Zelda nuzzles her damp face into the crook of Hilda’s shoulder, holding on to her soft cardigan. Hilda reaches behind herself blindly for the soft throw at the foot of the bed, but Zelda whimpers and clutches at Hilda, panicked that she’s moving away too soon. Hilda shushes her and says, “I’m right here, love, it’s alright,” as she grabs the blanket and wraps it securely around her sister, holding her close. Hilda keeps whispering soothing words of praise, of reassurance, of love while she holds Zelda tightly, occasionally rubbing her back or stroking her hair. 

Eventually, Zelda mumbles a “thank you, sister,” into Hilda’s shoulder and Hilda pulls back a tad. 

“Do you want some water, love?”

Zelda’s voice is a whisper as she says, “Yes, please.”

Hilda hands her the glass on the dresser and when Zelda is done she puts it back. 

“Better?”

Zelda nods, holding the blanket around her shoulders. 

Hilda steps closer to Zelda and places her hands on either side of her sister’s face. She wipes tears away with her thumbs as she looks up into her sister’s eyes, which are a much darker shade of blue than usual. She speaks quietly, but firmly. 

“You deserved that punishment,” Zelda’s chin wobbles just the tiniest bit and she looks down, nodding her head as much as Hilda’s hands will allow, “but now you deserve a reward.”

Zelda meets her eyes once more and bites her bottom lip.

Hilda’s hands slide down and around Zelda’s neck and clasp together under her hair. She hardly has to use any pressure at all to get Zelda’s head to drop forward. Their foreheads press together, and Hilda reckons her own eyes are as dark as Zelda’s. For a split second Hilda forgets that she is the one holding Zelda up and her breath goes all shaky as she inhales. Zelda leans in just enough to brush her parted lips against Hilda’s mouth, both pairs of eyes wide open, staring into each other. 

The sisters are physically different from each other in almost every way, but this close to Zelda’s face, captivated as she is by the blown pupils in Zelda’s eyes, Hilda could swear she’s looking into a mirror. Hilda has always loved that they had the same color eyes, that at least one thing about them was identical. She likes to imagine that they had agreed before they were born that they would share this one thing, if nothing else. 

“We deserve each other, Zelds. There’s no other way to be.”

Zelda’s blue eyes flutter closed and she breathes out a whimpered, “Oh, Hildie,” against Hilda’s lips. The blanket around Zelda’s shoulders falls to the floor with a soft whoosh and Hilda feels trembling hands grasp at the fabric at her hips, bunching and twisting the cotton around fingers until they still against Hilda’s sides, too tangled to continue their shaking. 

Hilda takes a moment to look at her sister, nearly going cross-eyed at their proximity. Eyes closed, nearly naked, wanton and needy and trusting and beautiful. Smudges of mascara around her eyes, long lashes against her cheek, the faint freckles across the bridge of her nose and over her cheekbones. The way her eyebrows are drawn together and up, pleading, hoping, waiting. Hilda can resist no longer.

Hilda finally lets herself melt into Zelda and she presses their lips together as gently as she did the first time they kissed. Zelda follows her lead and Hilda kisses her and kisses her and kisses her, slow and deep and sweet and hot. They kiss until Zelda begins slowly grinding herself against Hilda’s front as much as she can without breaking apart from their kiss. Hilda brings one hand down from Zelda’s neck to a lace covered breast and Zelda’s desperate whimper is delicious. She can feel the stiff peak of Zelda’s nipple through the scratchy material and she lightly drags her nails over it before squeezing at the soft flesh roughly. 

“P-please…” Zelda stutters against Hilda’s mouth, “I need,” she interrupts herself with a sloppy kiss to Hilda’s chin as she continues trying to rub herself against Hilda. “I need more…”

Hilda takes pity on her sister. 

“I know, Zelda,” she coos, “I know what you need,” and she reaches for one of Zelda’s hands down by her side. She disentangles trembling fingers from the material of her dress and presses Zelda’s hand against the soft skin of her bare navel. “Give it to yourself, love, give yourself what you need. I'm right here, Zelds,” and she guides her sister’s hand to move lower. 

Zelda makes a startlingly loud noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan as her hand makes contact with her sex. Her knees almost buckle, but Hilda quickly throws an arm around Zelda’s lower back to hold her close and help keep her upright. 

“That’s it, darling,” Hilda says against Zelda’s cheek, “I've got you.”

She can feel Zelda’s hand working furiously between their bodies, the backs of Zelda’s knuckles bumping against Hilda’s mound haphazardly, teasing just north of where she wants to be touched. Zelda’s hot, damp breath comes in quick puffs against Hilda’s ear, and when Hilda dips her head to kiss Zelda’s neck, Zelda makes a quiet keening sound that manages to sound both delicate and desperate. When the tip of Hilda’s tongue sneaks out to lap at the salty skin beneath her lips, Zelda’s knees go even weaker and she almost slips out of Hilda’s grip to drop to the floor. Hilda holds on to her tighter and she instinctively moves the hand not at Zelda’s back down to her ass to try to keep her on her feet. Her hand finds purchase gripping the pliant fleshy muscle of one buttcheek and she pulls her sister upright once more. At the rough treatment of her already over-sensitive backside, Zelda cries out loudly in Hilda’s ear and immediately, violently, spectacularly comes in Hilda’s arms, her whole body wracked with the combined pleasure and pain. 

Hilda holds her close through her orgasm, peppering small kisses over her neck and the juncture of her shoulder as she tells Zelda how good she is, how perfect and gorgeous, how well she’s done, and how much Hilda loves her.

Zelda’s sticky hand comes up to rest against the back of Hilda’s shoulder and she’s still shaking as Hilda begins to walk them backwards toward her bed. She holds Zelda a moment more as her breathing evens out.

“Can you stand by yourself, love?”

Zelda swallows before she answers with a simple, “Yes.”

Hilda cautiously disentangles herself from Zelda, making sure her sister isn’t overestimating herself. When she’s sure that Zelda will remain upright without her support, she lets her go fully to hop up onto the too tall bed, and scoots up until her back is resting against the pillows at the headboard. She sees Zelda smiling almost shyly at her and she blushes at the open expression of fondness and love on Zelda’s face. She settles in, legs straight out in front of her, feet flexing and toes wiggling in anticipation and excitement. She’s sure the grin on her face is far too goofy, nothing like the beatific, muted smile on her sister’s face, but Zelda says nothing. She simply watches Hilda with hooded eyes, hands toying with the bunched up fabric of her underwear that still clings to her thighs. 

“Yes, Zelda, take those off, all of it, and then come undress me,” and, feeling quite giddy, Hilda flings her arms out to rest on the multitude of decorative pillows she keeps as if they were the armrests of a throne. 

Zelda eagerly complies, kicking the underwear off her legs and reaching behind her back to unclasp the matching bra. At Zelda’s enthusiastic response, Hilda is reminded of when they were maybe 11, the year Zelda had shot up almost to Father’s shoulder. She had, for a short time, become just as clumsy as Hilda had always been, all knees and elbows, unaccustomed to her new gangly height. 

Hilda watches Zelda, now completely, gloriously naked, as she regains her natural grace and climbs onto the bed to slink her way up to Hilda. Hilda bites her lip. Zelda has always been good at this part— the slow seductive settling of her body over another’s. 

Zelda reaches for the underarm zipper of Hilda’s dress and slides it down until she can slip the straps off Hilda’s shoulders and tug on the fabric until Hilda’s breasts are revealed to her hungry gaze. She kisses the tops of each one and pulls the dress down more until Hilda is lifting her hips to help Zelda take it all the way off. 

When she is down to only her soft cotton bra and knickers, Zelda begins to kiss and nip and lick at every inch of Hilda’s exposed skin that she can reach. She unclasps Hilda’s bra and pushes her hands up under the material to squeeze Hilda’s breasts. She bites down gently just above Hilda’s belly button as her deft fingers find Hilda’s taut nipples and tug. She soothes the bite mark with a lave of her tongue as her hands go back to their cat-like kneading.

Eventually, Zelda abandons Hilda’s breasts to pull down her underwear before she settles herself in between Hilda’s legs, draping Hilda’s thighs over her shoulders. She licks her lips in anticipation, almost unconsciously, as she glances up at Hilda briefly to get her quick, desperate nod of permission. One of Zelda’s hands comes up to press firmly against Hilda’s lower abdomen, while her other hand circles around Hilda’s leg to squeeze her thigh possessively. Once she’s settled on her stomach, she licks a single long stripe up over Hilda. Her eyes flutter closed briefly as she savors the familiar, silky taste of her sister. Hilda’s breath stutters and she lets out a shaky puff of air, already feeling her toes curling in anticipation. 

Zelda laps at her slowly, languidly, eyes trained on Hilda’s face as they peer up at her over her mound. Hilda moans softly and she feels Zelda smile against her.

“Ohhh, Lilith, yes, Zeld--ah!” Hilda’s slow moans are punctuated by a gasped exclamation when Zelda closes her lips around Hilda’s clit and sucks it into her mouth briefly, before letting it go with a wet  _ pop _ .

Hilda feels Zelda’s half-formed thoughts wash over her and they affect her almost as much as Zelda’s mouth upon her. Things like,  _ delicious _ ,  _ beautiful _ ,  _ so lucky _ ,  _ Satan help me _ ,  _ I love you _ ,  _ I love you _ ,  _ I love you _ , are running through Hilda’s head in Zelda’s voice and Hilda feels lightheaded and giddy as she breathlessly tries to grind her cunt against Zelda’s chin and lips and nose. Zelda’s hand on her abdomen hinders her movement somewhat, but she doesn’t really mind. Being held down by Zelda feels delightful.

The pressure on Hilda’s stomach increases for a second as Zelda adjusts her position and then, suddenly, two of her fingers are smoothly entering Hilda, pressing up inside her as Zelda’s tongue laps at her clit in time.

When the hand on her stomach presses down in just the right place Hilda moans and her voice begins to shake as Zelda redoubles the pace of her fingers, practically vibrating them within Hilda and mercilessly hitting that one spot. She tries to warn Zelda that she’s about to come, that she will surely soak the bedspread, but her voice is quivering too much to get out anything more than a wavering, high-pitched “Zelds!” 

Then, suddenly, she feels the building pressure in her abdomen crest and she’s coming and drenching Zelda’s face from cheeks to chin. Zelda fucks her through it, wringing every drop she can from Hilda’s breathless body and lapping it up from the soft thighs and slick folds before her.

It’s only when Hilda reaches down and places one trembling hand on her cheek, that Zelda crawls up Hilda’s body and melts into her, resting her head against Hilda’s sweaty chest and absently stroking her still-wet fingers in languid swirls around one nipple. 

Hilda holds her and takes a few minutes to catch her breath. She looks down and admires the sloping landscape that is Zelda’s back which runs into the pink swell of her ass before melting back to creamy thighs. Hilda’s hands stroke Zelda’s back and one wanders down to those pink swells, brushing gently with her fingers and feeling the slightly raised welts in the shape of her hands. 

When Hilda moves her fingers across Zelda’s backside a little harder, scratching slightly with her short nails, her sister gasps into her neck. 

“Oh dear me, Zelds, is your bottom sore?”

She’s brought out the patronizing tone again and she feels Zelda’s eye-roll. 

“Do you want me to kiss it better for you?”

Zelda drags her lips up over Hilda’s neck before taking some skin between her teeth and nodding just enough to hurt. 

Hilda’s gasp and the accompanying swoop in her belly surprises her. She has never been the type of masochist her sister is, but sometimes she can see the appeal. Hilda kisses Zelda’s ear and disentangles herself to lay Zelda face down on the mattress. She straddles Zelda’s lower back and kisses her way down her knobbly spine, making sure the wetness between her legs slides on Zelda’s overheated skin. 

Zelda groans and then gasps when Hilda briefly slides over her ass, leaving a smear of herself over the tender pink skin. 

Hilda straddles the backs of Zelda’s thighs and squeezes the round globes of Zelda’s ass together. She bends down to plant a slow, wet kiss on each side before letting go and watching the flesh bounce back into place. 

Hilda situates herself over the back of one leg as she squeezes and nudges the other over so that Zelda’s legs lay splayed apart. She leans forward and blows on sensitive skin, now wet with Hilda. A shiver runs up Zelda’s spine and she pushes her hips off the mattress just slightly. Hilda smiles. 

“That’s it, my darling,” she runs one finger through Zelda’s slick folds and Zelda groans. “Tell me what you want.”

“Satan in Hell, just fuck me already, Hilda!”

“Good girl,” Hilda croons and pushes two fingers into Zelda, starting up a steady rhythm. 

One of Zelda’s hands reaches above her head to push against the headboard in counterpoint to Hilda’s thrusting, while the other fists the sheets next to her head. The side of her face presses into the mattress, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open as Hilda thrusts into her again and again. 

She adds a third finger and Zelda moans a single, drawn out, “yes,” which blends into a slightly slurred string of babbled encouragement. Hilda catches things like, “fuck,” “right there,” and silly, half-baked fragments that she’s sure Zelda is unaware of letting out of her mouth. Something about Hilda fucking better than Mount Everest passes Zelda’s lips and Hilda puffs out a breath of laughter as she thrusts her fingers harder.

The way Zelda is moving as Hilda fucks her has the thigh between Hilda’s legs pressing perfectly against her sex and Hilda lets herself fall forward to kiss and bite and suck at Zelda’s lower back. 

“Oh, Hild… ah!”

Zelda’s nonsensical string of words is interspersed with gasps and grunts and when Hilda’s thumb travels up over Zelda’s sweat-slicked perineum to slide over her tight asshole, Zelda arches her back and stuffs the corner of a pillow into her mouth, though it does little to stifle the loud, drawn out moan that escapes her. 

Hilda presses down with her thumb as she flexes her fingers inside Zelda. Her sister is just on the edge of an orgasm, she just needs that one little push and then she’ll fall into ecstasy. 

Zelda is spasming and clenching around her fingers, the wet squelching noise of her is deliciously obscene, especially accompanied, as it is, by Zelda’s continuous moaning into the pillow. 

Hilda grinds herself down harder on Zelda’s thigh and her thumb slips into Zelda just to the first knuckle. Hilda barely has time to register the tight muscle squeezing around her thumb before Zelda is convulsing and contracting around her fingers, her high-pitched moan escalating to a scream. 

It's almost enough to make Hilda come right on Zelda’s thigh. 

She rocks herself against the back of her sister’s leg a few more times, in tandem with her still thrusting fingers, until she, too, is coming hard on the heels of Zelda’s orgasm. As she does, she feels Zelda, sated and pleased, on the periphery of her psyche. Hilda is so filled with love and a hungry sort of devotion that her orgasm accidentally spills out over their open psychic link to Zelda, who nearly levitates off the bed as Hilda’s orgasm unexpectedly hits her too.

Hilda fucks herself through the aftershocks against Zelda’s thigh, and only withdraws her fingers when Zelda lays completely limp on the bed. 

She delicately wipes her hand off on the bedspread and then trails one finger up Zelda’s spine towards the nape of her neck to scratch Zelda’s head gently. She lays on her side to look at Zelda, whose eyes are closed now and Hilda chuckles quietly. She’s admittedly a little cocky about her skills in the bedroom, but she thinks it’s merited. After all, Zelda did just come so hard she passed out. 

Hilda makes herself comfortable as she watches Zelda and plays with her hair. After a little while of waiting, admiring the utterly fucked-out serenity of Zelda’s face and body in repose, Zelda’s eyes slowly flutter open as Hilda scratches gently at the base of her skull. 

“Hullo, love,” 

Zelda blinks again and a lazy, satisfied smile spreads over her face as she stretches and lifts herself to rest on her forearms. She cranes her neck toward Hilda, lips pouted for a kiss. 

They kiss and Hilda lays herself down on her back, head on the pillows, and drags Zelda after her so she lies half on top of Hilda. They both sigh as Zelda rests her head on Hilda’s breast and drapes an arm across her stomach. Hilda traces invisible doodles on Zelda’s back.

Hilda doesn’t remember dozing, but when she wakes up, her throw blanket is draped over her and she’s alone in her bed. She rolls over and smiles to see Zelda, now fully dressed again, standing in front of her vanity re-applying her makeup. Hilda is very tempted to tease her about why she isn’t sitting in her very comfortable matching vanity chair, but just as she’s about to open her mouth, Zelda catches her eye in the mirror. 

“Please, none of your asinine jokes, Hilda, I’ll have to be sitting down all through supper.”

Hilda can only shake her head and laugh at Zelda’s unintentional pun.

“I love you, Zelds.”


End file.
